I wouldn’t mind it if Homer Simpson was my father. The way I look at it, you’d always have a healthy supply of doughnuts and you’d be allowed to call your pets stupid names, such as Santa’s Little Helper.

Then again, my real father allowed that too.

He would have been a dab hand at Catchphrase, saying what he sees.

White rabbit? We called it Snowy. Shetland pony? Shorty was its name. King Charles Cavalier Spaniel? Charlie. House-trained duck? Quackers. Dark grey cat? Smokey. Tabby cat? Tabby. Black one? Sooty. Cat with a head the size of a football? Head The Size Of A Football.

Rescued kitten? Boris. Well, he liked to keep us on our toes.

Anyway, so far so balding yellow moron who tells his daughter Lisa that she shouldn’t smoke because “the Sturgeon General says you’re not supposed to”.

“A sturgeon is a fish,” an exasperated Lisa replies. “And a very wise fish he is,” says Homer.

He’s so dim he once lost a war with his own garden worms. His excuse? “They multiply when I cut them. I can’t fight that.” Fair enough.

It appears, though, that lots of you don’t share my adoration of Homer’s traits in our real-life fathers, branding this obese fictional creation in Y-fronts a “bad dad”.

In the run-up to Father’s Day, more than nine out of 10 respondents to a Mumsnet survey said paternal telly stereotypes were out of touch with reality.

Half were critical of the way fathers were represented as lazy and stupid by the media, while a third suggested they were little more than a “subtle form of discrimination”.

Programmes including The Simpsons, Peppa Pig, My Family, Outnumbered and Shameless were all highlighted as failing to promote suitable role models for children or fathers themselves.

Netmums founder Siobhan Freegard said that while many of the portrayals were humorous when viewed in isolation, taken together they had a corrosive effect.

But, she added, she didn’t want them banned but instead urged society to focus on the more positive aspects of fatherhood.

“It’s never been harder to be a father – but good dads have never been more needed by their families.

“So it seems perverse we are telling men to step up and be involved, while running them down in the media,” she said.

“The type of jokes aimed at dads would be banned if they were aimed at women, ethnic minorities or religious groups.

“Some people claim it’s ‘just a joke’ – but there’s nothing amusing about taking away good role models for young boys.”

Of the 2,150 parents questioned, however, three quarters said the standing of fathers had improved in society and men were more hands-on compared to a generation ago.

Nearly nine out of 10 fathers said they sought to be a better parent than their own dad.

Two thirds of men said they were happier and more settled after having children, while some even suggested being a parent made them more attractive or helped them give up smoking, drinking heavily or taking drugs.

Where I’m from, give fellas a couple of kids and it’s usually the reverse.

I also know men, those who don’t fill in surveys it has to be said, who buck stereotypes while being comfortable as one.

Take my father, who never sends my mother an anniversary or birthday card but would think nothing – nothing – of scrubbing out the bathroom floor instead.

He “doesn’t believe” in cards, in fact; says to stop sending them, or at least put the same one up from year to year.

He shops in bulk, changes his clothes at least 10 times a day, is a bit slapdash when it comes to painting ceilings but he’ll get everything done before you’ve had the chance to say, “Is that gloss splatter on my new leather settee or has it started snowing in here?”

He’s generous to a fault, uncomplicated and loyal. In fact, now I come to think of it, he’s more like Homer Simpson than the do-gooders might say is good for kids who come into contact with him.

Like his neighbour’s boy, who gets to learn about keeping animals, carving walking sticks, how to pick out quality spuds and plant beans.

He’s seen full cupboards, bottles upon bottles of washing-up liquid lined up perfectly in a row, and the magical and mischievous stories of my childhood have been wrung out for a new audience.

And he’ll do it all while sipping a can of cold beer, cleaning the veg and picking at the green sailor boy tattoos running up his arms.

So as Father’s Day approaches, I’ve got him a box of nine beers – “but none of that flat fancy foreign muck, mind” – but no card and definitely no mushy sentiment.

I bet a number of those do-gooders surveyed would find him, just like Homer, a million miles removed from a Disney idea of the perfect dad.

But in the wise words of the quintessential renaissance man of TV parenting: “Oh, people can come up with statistics to prove anything – 14% of people know that!”